Steamy windows: A critique of the back-seat bang

Back seat, windows up, that’s the way you like to…” (The last word of that sentence rhymes with ‘“yuck.”) Those are the immortal words of Ludacris. I suspect that Ludacris is probably rollin’ in a much nicer backseat than any I am used to, and I suppose that he has a fair amount of practice with the windows up. But putting these hypothetical theories to the side for the moment, I’m going to have to disagree with my man Luda. I normally find his erotic observations to be spot on (example: “I wanna get you in the Georgia Dome on the 50-yard line,”) but the back seat of the car is not the coital paradise that Mr. Cris makes it out to be.

We’ve all seen the Hollywood portrayal of the “make-out point” with a line of cars wobbling back and forth overlooking the dimly lit city. It’s the typical high school scene, and that’s exactly the problem. It’s for high schoolers. They are taking their cars out for a little romp under the night sky precisely because they can’t in their own homes. Parental ears are ultra sensitive to the rhythmic creaking of mattresses. This doesn’t apply to us. We’re in college now; it’s time to step up our game. It’s a time for anonymous drunken flings and masked orgies. If you are feeling adventurous, you could even have REGULAR, yes, REGULAR, sex in your bed. We all know our roommates should be subject to our nightly activities anyway; it’s not like they care. What are they, parents? They wouldn’t want to be parents, would they?

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It’s time to retire the back-seat bang. First off, it’s dangerous. Your rear window gets all foggy, and you can’t see out of it when it’s time to back out, and then you end up hitting something. Case in point. Not only is it dangerous, but unless you’re riding in a Maybach, chances are your back seat isn’t that spacious. If you’re looking to keep your frisky exploits out of the public eye, then you’re going to run into some logistical difficulties, if you know what I mean. If you’re an exhibitionist, go ahead and sit up; everyone likes a show. Lastly, I’d like to point out that it’s simply rude. Whether you’re carpooling or going to get some pizza with friends, someone’s going to be sitting in your brothel of a back seat. Shame on you. You can’t escape the stench of shame, or sex in the back seat for that matter.

We’ve all graduated high school. Now let’s graduate sex school. Let’s find a better location than the back seat of our cars. Start experimenting in the Quad or the DUC. Make it count. Free yourselves from the aluminum confines of your Toyota. Say goodbye to muscle cramps and hello to pleasure. As sad as it makes me, the time has come to retire the back seat bang. I’m sorry, Ludacris, but it’s got to go.

By the way, this is all based on the assumption that Wash. U. students have sex, which is, most likely, a myth.